


when i get my hands on you

by bluelines



Category: Hockey RPF, Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 09:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11825757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelines/pseuds/bluelines
Summary: Marie struggles with being inexperienced, but Kacey's patience helps.





	when i get my hands on you

**Author's Note:**

> Fratkin and Battaglino were in college with Poulin at BU and the potential for banter was irresistible.

There's no good time to bring it up.

Marie doesn't want to be presumptuous. Kacey likes her, Kacey likes her enough to take her on dates and kiss her, and that's still baffling enough that she doesn't want to push it. It seems crazy to think Kacey might want to do anything more with her, but Marie also knows, rationally, that this is all supposed to lead _somewhere_. She's not stupid. She's just lost. 

Every time they're alone together she gets nervous. She loves being with Kacey, but it feels dangerous, too. There's one afternoon that Marie is lucky enough to be the only one in her dorm, and they end up kissing on the couch, and it's different than it's been before. Marie feels like a mess, overheating and almost sweating just from kissing Kacey. They're in sweaters, so maybe that's not quite as weird as Marie thinks it is. They kiss until Marie's neck hurts from the angle, their knees pressed together on the couch, and then they pull apart and breathe for a few seconds. Before, Marie had her hand on Kacey's cheek, but when they pull away it falls kind of awkwardly to her knee.

Kacey clears her throat. She reaches down for the hand on her knee, and Marie immediately understands, or thinks she understands, that it was the wrong place for her to put it. Kacey is nice about it, though, playing with her fingers idly before she looks up.

"How long are your roommates out?" she asks, and Marie feels all the blood rush away from her head at once. She's surprised she doesn't pass out. 

"I don't know," Marie replies, but that seems like the wrong thing to say, too, because Kacey just blinks at her.

"I'm," Marie starts suddenly, and then realizes that now that she's started she has to finish and actually say it, "I've never, I'm not--I haven't done...much."

Kacey is quiet for a few seconds. Marie knows her face is red just from how hot it is, but she doesn't want to hide that from Kacey. The whole point of this is not to hide from Kacey, no matter how much she might want to. Besides, if she hadn't admitted this, Kacey would have found out eventually, embarrassingly.

"Okay," Kacey says, "so we'll do whatever you want."

Marie blinks. She's not sure what she was expecting, but that wasn't it. She supposes she was expecting Kacey to at least need some time to process, but it's like Kacey doesn't really care at all about it. It's such a shock to Marie that she briefly wonders if Kacey understood her. She wasn't terribly clear.

"So you're okay with--" she breaks off, gesturing vaguely, and Kacey's expression softens.

"It doesn't bother me," she says, and all Marie can think to do next is kiss Kacey again.

She places her hand back on Kacey's cheek, and this time Kacey reaches for her, touching her elbow and then her hip. The angle is still awkward, and she leans back, trying to lessen the pressure on her neck. Instead she ends up leaning back further, until Kacey follows, and before Marie's sure what she's doing, she's lying on her back on the couch with Kacey hovering over her and the kiss hasn't broken at all. That's awkward, too, for other reasons. Marie's neck doesn't hurt anymore, but the couch isn't actually wide enough for them like this, so she worries about Kacey falling. She reaches to steady Kacey and ends up with her hands on Kacey's hips, which terrifies her enough to make her hesitate.

Kacey pulls back from the kiss, holding herself up with one hand on the top of the couch. She brushes some hair out of Marie's face with her other hand, and leans back down to kiss her again, more deeply this time. Marie doesn't mind that, it's something she's had experience with before, something she's pretty confident she can do okay with. She's surprised and overwhelmed by how Kacey reacts, the kiss growing more urgent like Kacey's getting carried away, too. 

She's overheating again quickly, and terrified that Kacey's going to notice how sh's starting to sweat at the back of her neck and right at her collar and call all of this off, whatever it is. Instead Kacey kisses her until Marie has the courage to tighten her grip on Kacey's hips--to keep her from falling over--and then, out of what feels like nowhere, Kacey sits up and tugs her sweater over her head.

"Guess we'll hear the keys in the door," she says, but Marie doesn't process it.

She can't do much of anything other than stare. Kacey's skin is smooth and freckly. Marie is shocked and embarrassed at the first thought that comes to mind, unbidden and _not_ hers, or at least not one she recognizes--she wants to touch all those freckles with her lips. All she can do is swallow and watch Kacey watch her. Eventually Kacey reaches down and places a hand on Marie's stomach, just underneath her sweater. 

She's wearing a stupid sports bra. That's the next thought that Marie has. Kacey's wearing a real bra, a simple one, navy blue with no frills, and Marie doesn't even remember what color ratty sports bra she put on that morning. It hadn't occurred to her to think about it.

Still, when Kacey's hand slides across her stomach, Marie is hot enough that she sits up a few inches off of the couch to tug her sweater over her head. Kacey's eyes are down when Marie looks up, briefly on her stomach, maybe, or where her hand is. When she lifts her eyes, Marie looks for the disappointment, but there's nothing there. She can't imagine how that could be. Kacey has a perfect, tapered waist. Marie has--Marie's not sure what she has. Nothing, as far as she knows.

Kacey swallows.

"This is all," Marie says, and when Kacey makes eye contact with her, it's clear what she's said made no sense.

"This is all I've done," Marie tries again, and Kacey nods. It's not true, actually, Marie can distinctly remember fumbling with a girl's bra the summer before her first year at BU, but that had ended so disastrously she doesn't want to count it. Maybe, if she's lucky, Kacey will take her own bra off. She's not sure she'd be able to handle all that today, anyway, not when her roommates could open the door at any second.

Kacey leans down to kiss her again, and Marie is overwhelmed enough that she actually stops thinking. Stopping thinking is the only way she gets her hands to move, but they do move, from Kacey's hips up to her waist and back down. Marie is proud of herself for as long as she can be before Kacey shifts so that their upper bodies are pressed together, and then it's so much skin on skin that Marie can't focus enough to keep the kiss up. Kacey doesn't seem fazed by that. She kisses the corner of Marie's open mouth, and then her cheek, and then her jaw, and Marie clings to her, finding the line of Kacey's spine and tracing it with one hand while she tries to remind herself how to breathe.

She's just tilted her head so that she can kiss Kacey's mouth again when she hears the keys in the door.

Kacey sits up immediately, and they both scramble for their sweaters. Marie pulls hers on with no problem, but Kacey puts hers on backwards and curses quietly, ripping it over her head so that she can put it back on.

She doesn't get it back on before Anya and Kaleigh are through the door. It's mostly on, but it's also obvious she was putting it on, and Marie, sitting as far into the opposite corner of the couch as possible, wants to die.

"Oh hey," Kacey says, to a gaping Anya.

"You sly dog," Kaleigh says, directed at Marie, who says nothing.

"Wait," Kacey says, pointing out their bags, "you went to the Nike outlet in Boylston without me? Seriously?"

"It's just underwear stuff," Anya says, "it's nothing exciting."

Kaleigh wiggles her eyebrows. Kacey glances at Marie, and then holds out her hand when she stands up.

"C'mon," she says, "walk me to the station."

Marie follows her out and breathes a sigh of relief in the hallway that she knows Kacey can hear. Once they're out of earshot, Kacey links their hands.

"Sorry," she says, "that was stupid, we could have gone into your room."

The idea of Kacey being in her bed makes Marie stumble. 

"I could have asked when they were coming back," Marie says, following Kacey into the elevator, and Kacey makes a face.

"Then you would've had to stop kissing me," she says, and talking about it is something Marie hadn't expected to get her as bad as it does. She clears her throat, blushing again, and Kacey grins at her, but not unkindly. They don't speak again until they're near the T station, when Kacey falters.

"Hey," she says, turning to Marie suddenly, "do--you could come to mine next time, if you want. There's a little more privacy."

"Oh," Marie says, "yes, I can come over."

"Okay," Kacey says. Her hands are deep in her pockets, but she glances down at Marie's lips again. In public that carries an extra thrill, even here, where Marie knows that nobody will really care, if anyone even notices. 

"Bye," Kacey says, her eyes still on Marie's mouth for a few seconds before she lifts them.

"Bye," Marie echoes. She watches Kacey disappear down the stairs into Kenmore station.

Then she buys herself a coffee the size of her head.

-

The next time they see each other it's in a group, at a party that Marie doesn't really want to be at. She's not much of a party person in general, but she wanted to see Kacey, and she likes Kacey's friends enough that it's bearable. She sits on the couch and Kacey perches on the arm, resting her own arm behind Marie's head, on the top of the couch, without actually touching her. 

Marie isn't really listening to the conversations happening around her. She's clutching beer in one hand that she won't drink, trying to understand where the thought came from that she wishes Kacey's hand was in her hair.

Meghan Duggan has just said something and is looking at her, and Marie realizes she was supposed to answer. She blushes, blinking rapidly, and Meghan very kindly repeats herself.

"It's just manners," Meghan says, "it must drive you crazy that none of us take our shoes off when we come inside."

"Oh," Marie says, "I mean, I--it's not so much--it just took a while for me to stop taking _mine_ off everywhere I went."

It seems like the right thing to have said. Everyone laughs and moves on. Marie is feeling almost positive about her social skills when Kacey's fingers brush against her hair. It doesn't happen again right away, but Marie is on high alert, so when Kacey's fingers move again her heart skips a beat. She doesn't move. She tries very hard to at least look like she's paying attention. She brings her beer to her lips and lets it touch her mouth before she puts it down, as if she had been drinking it, which she still won't, though she's not sure why.

Kacey joins the conversation, but she's twirling Marie's hair around her index finger like it's nothing, like her brain still works while she's doing it. It's a tiny gesture, enough that it's possible nobody else notices it, but Marie--she can't notice anything else.

Somehow she survives it. When she comes home, Anya and Lou are drinking in the kitchen, Lou sitting on the counter, Anya just now taking something out of the oven.

"Cookie cake," Anya says, showing her.

"How--"

"We just put all the cookie dough on the sheet and spread it out," Lou says, "did you get laid tonight or not?"

Marie glares at her.

"Sorry," Lou says, "listen, I'm just trying to look out for you."

"We all are," Anya says, but _she_ sounds serious.

"Turn the oven off," Marie says, "I'm going to bed."

-

Anya corners her the next day.

Well, actually, Anya slides up when Marie is doing homework on the dining room table, and for a few seconds Marie just ignores her.

"Hey," Anya says, "I can tell them to stop teasing you about Kacey if you want."

"It doesn't matter," Marie says, but she's lying and not sure why she'd bother. Anya really would do it.

"You don't have to be--I don't want you to think that there's like," Anya says, "a timeline to this or something. You can just do whatever."

"It's not like I've never dated a girl before," Marie says, flipping the page of her textbook.

"Okay," Anya says, and leaves it. She sits and picks up a nail file from the middle of the table. It feels pointed. 

Eventually Marie caves, after she glances down at her own nails and wonders whether they should be smoother. She never files them, she just cuts them. 

"I don't know what I'm doing," she admits, focusing back on her textbook. She can't actually process any of it, but she at least looks at it. Anya leans over to look at the textbook too, but then she gets it, sitting back in her own chair.

"Oh," Anya says, "Pou, that's okay, you're not supposed to just like--it's--we all don't know what we're doing at first."

"That's comforting," Marie says.

"It's okay," Anya says, "I'm sure Kacey remembers being new to this stuff too."

Marie tries to imagine Kacey being new at anything and can't make it happen. She can, however, vividly imagine Kacey hovering over her somewhere, somewhere it's dark and quiet. She remembers the line of Kacey's shoulders, and how soft her skin was, even though they had been pressed together only briefly.

"I don't know why she'd want to sleep with someone who doesn't know anything," Marie mumbles, mostly to herself. When she realizes that Anya has heard her--of _course_ Anya heard her--she pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Hey," Anya says, "I think I know how to help you."

-

Marie isn't sure how helpful this is going to be.

She understands the concept. It's not like she's never seen a sex scene before. It's not like she's never thought about it, or imagined it, or even had a dream about it, though she'd never admit that to anyone. But thinking about the details, trying to imagine actually touching Kacey, paralyzes her. She can't be freezing up if Kacey takes her to bed. The only thing she can imagine that would be worse would be actively doing something wrong and having to be corrected.

So she reads it anyway.

"Being an experienced masturbator will help you be a successful lover more than anything else you could ever do, ever."

There's nothing to say what 'experienced' means or is. It's not like she's never done that. She doesn't do it often and it's not a production, it's not about learning something or discovering her body or something absurd like that. Supposedly she's better off if she does that again and pays attention. She's so embarrassed thinking about it that she has to exit out of the page, turn off her laptop, and go for a run. It's forty degrees outside.

When she comes back, she's convinced herself she's not going to do it. By the time she gets into bed that night, she's not so sure. If it's going to help, if it's going to make it so that Kacey--

Well, thinking about Kacey and sex is enough to make her reconsider on its own.

In the dark, in her own room, in her own bed, it's easier to avoid her embarrassment. 

For a while she just thinks about Kacey. It's all she's willing to do at first. She thinks about Kacey, about the last time they were alone together. She closes her eyes and remembers the way Kacey had kissed her, freezes her memory at the moment Kacey tugged her sweater over her head. Kacey has freckles across her chest, and in her mind Marie is brave enough to sit up and kiss them. She imagines that Kacey would put her hands in her hair, the way she had hinted at on the couch at Meghan's party. In her head it's more, it's Kacey's fingers threading through her hair and maybe tugging a little bit. It wouldn't hurt, and it wouldn't stop Marie.

In her head she's able to take Kacey's bra off without a hitch. In real life she can feel herself getting restless, shifting and kicking her legs under the blanket. She knows she's supposed to be doing something, but she's tense and frustrated with herself until it occurs to her to pretend her body is Kacey's. It's not a good comparison. Kacey has a nicer body than her, Marie knows it without having seen it, but it's good enough for her to stop stalling. She touches herself the way she wants to touch Kacey.

She refuses to take anything off. The illusion falters when her hand slides beneath her own waistband, when she wonders briefly what kind of underwear Kacey wears. She digs her heels into her mattress and focuses again, trying to tamp her frustration back down. 

Instead of thinking about touching Kacey, she's thinking now about Kacey touching her, about Kacey's hand instead of her own, and that's different, that's easier, that's--well, it's something. She has to push her sweatpants off of her hips, but she's desperate enough now that she's distracted from her initial goal, distracted enough not to care about anything other than trying to be quiet, thinking about the way Kacey had kissed her jaw in the seconds before her roommates had opened the door, and if she'd do that again.

It hits her all at once. She's not ready for it or she would have tried to draw it out, but it's too late now, and all she can do is try to breathe, shaking, her eyes squeezed shut.

As always, afterwards, she's embarrassed. This time she's frustrated, too, because it doesn't feel like she's accomplished anything. She's just laying in her bed with her sweatpants half off mortified at the fact of what she's just done. It's probably normal to do that, to think about the person you're dating even if you haven't slept with them yet, but she still feels wrong about it. More than that, she doesn't feel any more ready to do anything other than take a shower and go to sleep.

-

She wakes up to a text from Kacey. She's immediately reminded of the night before, and buries her face in her pillow for three minutes before she lifts her head and answers the text asking if she's free later.

Walking into Kacey's apartment is the most nervewracking thing she's done since the Olympics. She hasn't been since the party, but it's empty now, looking lived-in and a little cluttered but clean. Certainly cleaner than her place tends to be. She hesitates in the foyer, and Kacey tugs her closer by the collar of her jacket using her grip to push it over Marie's shoulders until Marie takes it off and holds it.

"It's too early to go to dinner still," Kacey says, "what do you want to do?"

She thinks about saying something else, but it's cold outside, and she doesn't really want to go for a walk or go see a movie. Instead of saying anything at all, she takes a step back into Kacey's space and leans in, but she's not sure if she should initiate the kiss. She doesn't want Kacey to feel pressured, so she stops short, and Kacey is the one to kiss _her_ , reaching for her wrist.

It's a short, chaste kiss, and when they pull back, Kacey is still holding onto her. They make eye contact for a few seconds, and then Kacey slides her hand down so that she can hold Marie's.

"C'mere," she says, and Marie follows her blindly, praying that she won't trip even though her legs are suddenly numb and useless.

She's never been in Kacey's room before. It's nice. Her bed is made, but there's some clothes strewn on top of the chair in the corner that make Marie feel like this is real. There's a book on the nightstand, and she wonders what it is, but Kacey's toeing her shoes off and Marie feels like she should be doing the same. They let go of each other's hands, and Kacey closes the door, which just makes Marie more sure her legs aren't going to be able to hold her up much longer. 

"Hey," Kacey says, "we're only gonna do what you want to do."

Marie steps in to kiss her, but she steps in too close and Kacey has to adjust. She takes a step back, tugging Marie with her, and eventually they part again so that Kacey can sit on the edge of the bed. Marie goes around the other side of it, and for a few seconds they lay on Kacey's bed, facing each other, saying nothing. Marie takes a deep breath, but that's a mistake. Everything smells like Kacey. 

Marie shuffles closer, dropping her eyes to Kacey's lips for a moment. She flushes, thinking of last night again, and leans in to kiss Kacey at least half to stop herself from going there. It's too late, though. She's in Kacey's bed, kissing Kacey--it's way too late. It feels awkward for her not to use her hands, especially after Kacey reaches for her, holding onto her bicep with one hand. Marie settles with her hands on Kacey's waist, unsure but still willing to try. This is familiar. She's done plenty of this, with Kacey and otherwise.

It's Kacey who opens her mouth into the kiss, and Marie is overwhelmed enough that her body reacts without her permission. She ends up rolling over, pressing Kacey into the bed and chasing the kiss down, and Kacey hands immediately go to her shoulders. Kacey tastes like minty gum. She's always chewing on something, usually gum, and Marie is tired of wishing that Kacey would chew on her lips instead.

They have to maneuver a little bit, and Kacey ends up shifting so that Marie has a knee between hers. Again Marie is overwhelmed and hot, not sure how long they've been kissing before she realizes that the arm holding her up is starting to hurt. She hesitates, and Kacey pushes gently on her shoulders until she sits up on her knees.

Her lips are swollen. She had forgotten that--how kissing a girl for an extended period of time makes your mouth numb and feels like you've just run a mile with no water. Kacey's fingertips press just beneath the hem of Marie's henley, and Marie hesitates. Before, the last time they had taken their shirts off, they were in such a rush that she hadn't had time to worry about what Kacey would see. Now, with Kacey's shirt still on, Marie is worried about it. The first time she had been fitted for a dress--her cousin's wedding--the woman at the store had referred to her as 'boxy'. That's what she's thinking of with Kacey looking openly and expectantly up at her, waiting for her to decide, either way.

She takes off her shirt anyway. She watches Kacey's expression, and notices how Kacey's eyes don't leave her shoulders or chest for a few long, lingering seconds. 

Marie clears her throat, meaning nothing by it in particular, but it seems to jolt Kacey back into the present. She immediately pulls her own shirt over her head, reaching up to tug Marie back down into a kiss with a hand on the back of her neck. Marie holds herself up on one elbow instead of on her hand, and their torsos slide together again just like she remembered, just like she imagined the night before. She shifts upward, trying to make the kiss more comfortable, and in the process she takes some weight off of her knee. Her thigh ends up pressing between Kacey's legs, and she's afraid that she's overstepped when Kacey inhales sharply. 

Marie is very still. Kacey moves the hand on the back of Marie's neck to trail it down along her back, following the line of her spine, and Marie shudders, pressing closer, or trying to even with so little space between them. Both of Kacey's hands fall to Marie's hips, and Marie fixates on Kacey's neck, leaning down to kiss it, gently at first but then more insistently, trying to avoid leaving a mark. Kacey uses the hands on Marie's hips to pull them forward, against hers, and the pressure of Marie's leg makes her sigh. Marie's lips are still against her pulse point, so she can feel it when Kacey's heartbeat jumps. Still, it takes Kacey's guidance, Kacey moving her hips back and forth a few times, for Marie to be sure what she's asking.

When she’s moving on her own Kacey can’t keep a kiss up. She’s breathing too irregularly, her hands moving up and down Marie’s back, and Marie doesn’t mind because she’s not sure she could do two things at once anyway. She’s too fascinated by this, by the way Kacey’s hips move up against her leg, by how quickly she gets to the point where she wants their jeans off, too. Eventually--she’s not sure how much later--she starts to get tired, and the minute hesitation is enough to set Kacey off. Before Marie knows it she’s on her back, and Kacey is hovering over her, pressing a knee between her legs like Marie had done for her. 

Marie gasps in a breath. Kacey isn’t moving, it’s just steady pressure against the inseam of Marie’s jeans. Instead Kacey is watching her face, and she reaches up with the hand not holding her up to brush her thumb against Marie’s bottom lip. Somehow, after everything, _that_ is what gets Marie, what sets her off wriggling against Kacey’s knee, unsure what else to do but desperate not to be still.

Kacey drops down to rest against her completely, and Marie can hear herself audibly gasp. It’s embarrassing for a moment, before Kacey readjusts so that she’s barely holding herself up with one arm braced beneath Marie, just under her shoulders. The other hand is free, and Kacey drags it along Marie’s side while she rocks forward, like Marie had done for her. Kacey is more solid than Marie expected. It’s not easy to breathe, but she doesn’t care. She brings her hands back to Kacey’s waist, but she can’t keep them still. She alternates between touching Kacey’s back and shoulders to pushing the hair out of her face, and they go on like that, Kacey occasionally trying to reinitiate the kiss, until Marie turns her head and catches sight of the alarm clock on Kacey’s dresser.

They’ve been doing this for an hour.

She’s not sure how that’s possible, but if the clock is right they came into Kacey’s room an hour ago. Kacey takes advantage of the new angle to kiss Marie’s neck, but the urgency has melted away, so that she ends up pressing her nose to Marie’s cheek before looking at the clock herself. They make eye contact again, and now, with a little more blood to spare to her brain, Marie is distinctly aware that she had been sweating. They both had. She’s surprised by that, too.

“Hey,” Kacey says, a smile working its way onto her face.

“Hi,” Marie mumbles, but her voice is a little hoarse, enough to embarrass her.

“You hungry?” Kacey asks, and Marie turns pink, she can feel it.

-

“We’re gonna do--”

“Only as much as I want,” Marie finishes, tugging Kacey to her. Her apartment is miraculously, blissfully empty for the next few hours, thanks to a Katy Perry concert they were never, ever going to convince her to go to. 

“Okay,” Kacey laughs, brushing her thumb across Marie’s lower lip as she lifts her hand to cup Marie’s cheek, “I just wanted to make sure I said it again.”

“I got it,” Marie says, leaning in to kiss her again. It starts out slow, but Marie gets impatient quickly. It still feels surreal when she takes Kacey’s hand and leads Kacey to her room. When she closes her door, Kacey takes a look around the room, and Marie starts to doubt all of her decorative choices.

“Oh,” Kacey says, “I like Sid, too. But Letang is my favorite.”

Marie can’t believe she forgot the picture of Crosby taped up by her dresser. It’s been up in her room for years, since his first year in the NHL, and it just never felt right to throw away or not take with her.

“He’s from Montreal,” she mumbles, and Kacey turns back to her. “Letang,” Marie offers helpfully, and Kacey grins.

“Yeah?” she asks, “well, maybe I have a type.”

“Good thing Letang is a guy,” Marie jokes, and Kacey, surprising her like always, goes serious, stepping close to Marie to kiss the corner of her mouth and then along her jaw, wrapping an arm around Marie’s back so she can pull Marie in close to her. Marie lets Kacey support some of her weight and closes her eyes. She wonders if Kacey has some inkling of how sensitive she is or if Kacey’s just exploring, but either way she worries that she’s going to embarrass herself. 

When Kacey’s breath ghosts across her ear Marie wobbles, just as she expected she would. 

“Oh,” Kacey says quietly, but it’s still right against Marie’s earlobe, and Marie has to grasp at Kacey’s biceps to keep herself upright. She’s pretty sure that’s on purpose. She’s completely sure when Kacey’s teeth scrape across her skin, and when that happens, Marie sits down suddenly and heavily on the edge of her bed. 

She expects Kacey to laugh at her, but it doesn’t happen. Instead Kacey toes off her shoes and goes around to the other side of the bed. She lays on her side, and Marie does the same, staring ahead at her dresser. Kacey moves up behind her and wraps her arms around Marie’s waist, resting her chin on Marie’s shoulder and taking a deep breath. The exhale comes out, again, against Marie’s ear. It’s supposed to be sweet--it _is_ sweet, Kacey holding her--but Marie is hot, too, uncomfortable in her jeans, embarrassed that nibbling her ear was all it took to get her here. 

“If you’re free next week,” Kacey says, “during your Thanksgiving break, Erika and Kelli and Meghan are all going home but my parents are actually coming into the city to have the holiday at my cousins’, so I’ll still be here, and...if you wanted to stay the night you could.”

Marie swallows. She’s not sure what’s more overwhelming--the idea of waking up next to Kacey or the connotations of staying the night. Either way she hesitates, and Kacey interprets it as something it’s not.

“We wouldn’t have to do anything,” she says, “and you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” Marie says, and she means it to both but she’s not sure how to say it. She wriggles back against Kacey, trying to get closer, and by accident she discovers something. Kacey inhales. Marie isn’t sure it’s related until she moves again, experimentally, pushing back against Kacey’s hips, but Kacey sucks in a breath again and she knows it’s not a coincidence.

She has no idea what she’s doing. What she knows is that whatever it is, Kacey likes it, so she does it again, rolling her hips back, and it feels stupid but Kacey’s arms tighten around her so she doesn’t want to stop. 

She hesitates when Kacey’s hand slips under her shirt, but only because she’s distracted by that. Kacey’s palm slides across her stomach and then up, her thumb just brushing the bottom of Marie’s bra. Then it’s Kacey’s turn to hesitate, and Marie takes the opportunity to catch her breath.

“Can I,” Kacey starts to ask, but her voice is hoarse and she doesn’t finish. Marie reaches beneath her own shirt to push Kacey’s hand up over her bra even though her face is red with a blush that feels like it’ll never go away. Kacey can’t see that, and Marie’s glad, because her face only gets hotter when Kacey actually touches her properly, stroking her thumb across Marie’s breast, over plain cotton.

“Marie,” Kacey breathes against her neck, and Marie chokes on a sigh, still trying to move back against Kacey but unable to figure out what she had been doing before, now that Kacey’s hand is on her.

“You have to tell me if I do something that isn’t okay,” Kacey continues, and Marie almost wants to throttle her she’s so frustrated.

“Okay,” Marie manages, because she knows Kacey won’t do anything until she does.

She almost regrets it when Kacey’s hand moves back down over her stomach. At first all she can do is be frustrated that Kacey’s not touching her the way she had before, but that doesn’t last long. It doesn’t last because Kacey’s hand slips down over her jeans, fumbling with the button and the zipper, and Marie arches back against her half out of surprise and half because she wants to be closer. She considers rolling over, but she doesn’t want Kacey to stop what she’s doing, and being face to face with Kacey now would just embarrass her to death.

Instead she stays very still when Kacey moves that hand inside her jeans. Kacey doesn’t move again until Marie breathes, and she gets the point. She’s going to have to keep breathing if she wants this to keep going, which seems reasonable. She’s hyperfocused on Kacey’s hand, on the faintest pressure of Kacey’s fingertips. It isn’t much, but she ends up moving her hips minutely, trying to get more out of it, without even noticing it. She’s still surprised how much of this is happening instinctively. Kacey breathes out against her neck again, pressing her hips forward against Marie’s. 

Kacey might not be doing much, but Marie is worked up, embarrassed when she realizes that Kacey can tell _how_ worked up she is. Kacey doesn’t seem bothered. Kacey seems like she’s the opposite of bothered. Marie realizes with a gasp that she’s closer than she thought, but as soon as she realizes it the feeling passes. She’s too self conscious and too aware of it, and besides which, she doesn’t want it to happen like that. She wants to see Kacey when she does.

She rolls over, dislodging Kacey and ending face to face with her, their breaths mingling.

“Hey,” Kacey says.

“Hi,” Marie replies, but her voice is hoarse and she’s not sure it came out as a word.

“You okay?” Kacey asks, and Marie laughs in frustration, turning her head so she can blow some strands of hair out of her face.

“Kacey,” she says, her frustration actually overriding her embarrassment for once, “I’m--I almost--”

“It’s okay,” Kacey says, reaching up to brush a hand through her hair, pushing more loose strands out of her face, “it would be okay if you did.”

“I don’t want to,” Marie admits, and Kacey’s expression changes. There’s a moment of hurt that flickers across her face before she puts on something more neutral, and Marie realizes she’s been misunderstood, so she corrects herself: “I don’t want to like that.”

“I would be okay just kissing you,” Kacey says, and Marie wants to die. If she kisses Kacey any longer she’s going to lose her mind. She wants more than that, but she’s uncertain now, and she’s realizing she has no idea what they’re doing. They haven’t talked about it. They’ve been seeing each other, but they’ve never said a word to each other about it, really, and it makes her nervous all of a sudden.

“I like you a lot,” she blurts, tucking her face against the front of Kacey’s shirt.

“I like you a lot, too,” Kacey says, and Marie worries about being laughed at until she can hear that Kacey is entirely serious, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

-

They don’t do anything else that night. They end up watching a movie, some movie about a widow’s husband leaving her letters after his death (which seems a little rude to Marie but makes Kacey cry twice), but that’s all, and Marie doesn’t really mind. She likes Kacey burrowing under her arm, likes the excuse to hold her properly during the sad bits, but the question that popped into her head earlier isn’t going away. Are they friends? She loves spending time with Kacey, laughs with her every time they’re together, could spend hours just talking to her, but--it’s more than that, clearly. Something there’s not actually a word for yet.

When Kacey leaves, she kisses Marie at the train station, in full view of anyone who might be passing by.

-

Staying the night at Kacey’s is the most exciting thing about Marie’s week.

The night before, she dreams about it, which seems backwards. She dreams about waking up to Kacey making her breakfast, and when she _does_ wake up, Kaleigh has burnt waffles in the toaster for the third time that semester. 

She has practice until late, so that she only shows up to Kacey’s once she’s showered and it’s past nine. She could have stopped to grab something to eat but she was too excited to waste any more time, so that when Kacey lets her in she’s starving and regretting it, if only a little.

“I ordered Chinese,” Kacey says, “I hope you like sesame chicken.”

“I’ll eat anything,” Marie says, and Kacey glances at her, half smiling. It doesn’t mean anything but Marie still blushes. Over dinner they talk about practices, about BU and the ECAC and the Blades, but Marie is mostly thinking about waking up to Kacey, about whether or not Kacey steals covers. She guesses that Kacey probably does. It seems like something she would do.

As if she’s read Marie’s mind, Kacey turns over her shoulder while putting the leftovers away, suddenly serious.

“You better not be a blanket stealer,” she says, “or we’re going to have a problem.”

“You can fight me for them,” Marie offers, and Kacey makes a face.

“You’ll lose,” Kacey replies, and Marie rolls her eyes.

Brushing their teeth together in Kacey’s cramped bathroom is oddly intimate, more than anything else they’ve ever done. They make eye contact in the mirror, and Kacey tries to smile around her toothbrush, but toothpaste drips down onto her chin and Marie ends up laughing, making a mess of her own even though she covers her mouth.

“You’re gross,” Kacey says, matter-of-factly, wiping her mouth. Marie follows suit, and as always the banter makes it easier for her to be forward.

“You’re still gonna kiss me,” she says boldly, and manages to cringe only in her head.

“You’re right,” Kacey says, pulling Marie in by the hem of her sleep shirt to kiss her, their lips cool and minty. They linger like that, close to kissing again but not quite there, and then Kacey kisses the corner of Marie’s mouth and her cheek.

“Marie,” she says, “I’m--I was thinking about you, and how much I like you, and,” she pulls away to make eye contact, but Marie’s heart is racing and it’s hard for her to make eye contact. 

“Is this something you want to do?” Kacey asks, and Marie isn’t sure exactly what she’s asking. It doesn’t seem like Kacey is talking about sex, but if Kacey is asking her about them being together, Marie isn’t sure how to react. She had assumed they were dating already. She never refers to Kacey as her girlfriend, but, really, that’s what they _are_ , what they have been, at least in her own head. The idea that Kacey wasn’t there yet, that they were supposed to have this conversation about it, makes Marie embarrassed at her own presumptuousness. Of course there’s supposed to be a conversation.

“I want to be with you,” Marie tries, and Kacey reaches for her hands.

“So if I was going to introduce you to a friend and I called you my girlfriend,” Kacey says, turning pink, “how would you feel about that?”

It strikes Marie all of a sudden how shy Kacey is, how hard this is for her to do. She’s doing it because she wants to have the conversation even if she’s uncomfortable and awkward and bad at it, because she likes Marie enough to have the stupid conversation anyway. Marie has never liked anyone so much.

“I’d like that,” she manages, but she can only talk because she knows Kacey would die of embarrassment if she didn’t. Kacey kisses her again, but it’s not much of a kiss because they’re both smiling too widely for the first few seconds, their knees bumping when they try to move closer together. 

For a few seconds, Marie is struck by how ridiculous it is that she’s here. Here, standing in Kacey’s bathroom, holding her hands and kissing her. Here, existing in the world as Kacey’s girlfriend. 

She’s just getting comfortable in the kiss when Kacey pulls back, keeping ahold of one of Marie’s hands to tug her back into the bedroom. Marie’s heart is in her throat suddenly but she follows Kacey down, sidling up behind her and wrapping her arms around Kacey’s waist, resting her chin on Kacey’s shoulder.

“We can put a movie on,” Kacey says, but they’re not facing the little TV on her dresser, and Marie doesn’t want to move. She likes the feeling of wrapping herself around Kacey, maybe even more than she likes having Kacey wrapped around her. 

“We could,” she agrees, because she feels like she has to say something. She can feel kacey breathing. She spends the seconds of silence that pass before Kacey speaks again trying to reconcile the fact that Kacey and ‘her girlfriend’ are the same person. It’s weird enough to think of herself as someone who would _have_ a girlfriend, especially someone like Kacey, someone so...real.

“It’s too early to go to sleep,” Kacey says, and Marie makes a soft noise of agreement, but she’s not really paying attention. She’s exhausted from practice and school, and acey is warm and smells good, so the chances of her falling asleep at any moment are only growing.

“Sorry,” she says pre-emptively, and Kacey covers Marie’s hands with her own.

“Can we at least get under the covers?” Kacey asks, and Marie groans, tightening her arms around Kacey in protest of moving at all. Kacey squirms, and Marie’s stomach drops. Kacey’s not trying to do anything other than get under the covers but Marie is completely, irreversibly awake now that Kacey’s-- doing whatever it is she’s doing.

She clears her throat, loosening her grip on Kacey, who rolls over to face her. It’s a little bit embarrassing how quickly Marie got flustered, but Kacey doesn’t laugh at her. Instead, her eyes flick down to Marie’s mouth, and Marie feels dangerous.

Kacey kisses her and it’s an entirely different kiss than the last one. Marie has to adjust to that to keep up, but she does, sliding her hands just beneath Kacey’s shirt and over her back, only hesitating mentally when she realizes Kacey’s not wearing a bra, because _of course_ she isn’t, she was going to bed. Still, when Kacey tugs her shirt over her head Marie is surprised that she’s not overwhelmed. She feels capable when she sits up and pulls Kacey onto her lap.

Kacey seems surprised when Marie kisses her neck and her collarbones. She _sounds_ surprised when she gasps a little bit, holding onto Marie’s shoulders, and that helps, feeling like she’s done something exciting, something Kacey likes. She’s not sure what she’s expecting when she trails lower, across Kacey’s breasts, but it’s not what she gets, which is Kacey threading a hand into her hair and gasping again on a sound that’s halfway to a moan. She doesn’t let up because Kacey rocking into her lap has to mean she’s doing something right, so when Kacey only lasts a minute before she presses Marie back down onto the bed, she assumes that she’s done something wrong.

Kacey pushes Marie’s shirt up and doesn’t wait for her to take it off before she’s kissing her way along Marie’s stomach. Marie doesn’t know what to do with her hands, but she can’t breathe all of a sudden and her heart is racing like she’s just finished sprints. When Kacey looks up at her she pulls her shirt over her head, and she’s glad that it makes Kacey move up to kiss her, because that’s familiar, even with Kacey’s tongue brushing her lip and Kacey settled between her knees.

Kacey pulls away and pauses, brushing some hair out of Marie’s face. Marie is fairly sure that if Kacey tells her one more time that they’re only going to do what she wants, she’s going to die.

“Will you tell me what you want?” Kacey asks, but she’s flushed and can’t maintain eye contact, her gaze dropping to Marie’s mouth every other second. Thinking about talking embarrasses Marie so much that she doesn’t think she can even answer. She almost says that she’s not picky, but that seems like a ridiculous and unsexy thing to say, so she doesn’t. 

Kacey seems to understand anyway. She kisses the corner of Marie’s mouth and then her cheek, while one of her hands slides down Marie’s torso, along her stomach, resting at her hip.

“Show me,” she suggests, and Marie thinks she might be able to do that.

Marie slips out of her shorts and underwear all at once because she feels awkward doing it, but she’s not embarrassed anymore, not afraid of Kacey or what Kacey’s going to think. Kacey kisses her, and it’s a reassurance but more than that, too. Marie trusts her.

She takes Kacey’s hand and guides it, but she doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until Kacey exhales against her neck. Kacey seems to know what she wants almost instantly, and for half a second Marie thinks about how Kacey has been doing this for years, probably, and when their positions are reversed Marie won’t know what to do, but then Kacey’s hand is moving without hers and she can’t think at all.

It’s not really enough pressure. It’s good, but Marie knows she won’t be able to get anywhere with things going the way they are, Kacey’s fingertips moving in small, careful circles. Marie realizes that she’s holding onto Kacey without having made the decision to do it, one hand gripping Kacey’s upper arm and the other on her hip. She moves the one from Kacey’s hip in between them, touching Kacey’s wrist, and Kacey adjusts immediately.

It’s exactly right. Marie chokes on a gasp, clinging to Kacey’s shoulders, and Kacey slows, brushing her lips across Marie’s temple.

“Breathe,” Kacey says, and Marie breathes.

After that it isn’t long. Kacey never pulls away, staying close, occasionally kissing Marie’s cheek or jaw, and Marie only realizes at the last second that her hips have been moving minutely with Kacey’s hand. Having Kacey pressed so close to her is what pushes her over the edge, but she’s quiet, muffling a soft sound that surprises her into Kacey’s shoulder while she shakes. Kacey just holds her, lets her cling, and the rush is more than relief, it’s affection and it’s gratefulness and a million other things Marie can feel but not put into words.

Eventually Kacey rolls off of her, giving her space to breathe, and Marie immediately rolls onto her side to curl into Kacey anyway, looping an arm around her waist and burying her face in Kacey’s neck. Kacey kisses her forehead, trailing a hand along Marie’s back.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Marie admits, once she has her breath back.

“You’ll be fine,” Kacey promises, and she really sounds like she believes it.

Marie rolls them over. She doesn’t realize how different it will be when Kacey kicks her shorts away, how different it is for there to be _nothing_ between them at all, and she gets lost in that for a while, just kissing Kacey, resting on one elbow, fascinated by everything from the softness of Kacey’s skin against hers to Kacey’s growing impatience. She’s trying to be discreet, but she’s shifting a little bit beneath Marie, who knows what it means. She knows what it would mean if it were her.

“Can,” she starts, but she can’t finish the sentence. She knows it’s important to ask, but Kacey nods, cupping the back of Marie’s neck in one hand, her thumb brushing across Marie’s cheek. Marie almost doesn’t want to do anything yet. She wants to spend hours just touching Kacey’s arms and stomach, sliding her hands along Kacey’s legs and shoulders, that would be enough for her. And she’s nervous, enough for her hand to shake when she reaches down to Kacey’s hip, sitting back on her heels. 

Kacey doesn’t seem bothered at all by that, by Marie just looking. As impatient as she was with Marie pressed against her, she’s quiet and still now, and Marie’s mouth is dry taking in how comfortable Kacey is, how easy this is for her. She wants it to be easy for her, too.

She places her hands on Kacey’s thighs and tries to focus.

“You don’t have to,” Kacey says gently, and that’s what spurs Marie into motion, because she wants to, she’s not sure she’s ever wanted anything like she wants this, and Kacey can’t even tell. She needs Kacey to know. She places a hand on Kacey’s stomach to feel her breathing, and with each inch she moves it downwards her heartbeat ratchets up until it feels like she’s in the middle of a sprint and just the brush of her thumb makes Kacey sigh, covering the hand on her hip with her own.

It seems like the right thing to do, so Marie does nothing else for a few seconds, experimenting with more pressure until Kacey’s hand tightens on hers, and then she looks up. Kacey’s flushed and watching Marie with her mouth half open. Marie wants to reach up and push the flyaways out of Kacey’s face, but she’s a little bit busy. She turns her hand over, and this is new for her, not the way she’d ever touch herself, but Kacey inhales sharply and pulls at the sheets with her free hand, and Marie thinks that has to be a good thing. 

It takes her a few minutes to realize she’s not doing enough. She can hear Kacey’s breathing now, but they’re not getting anywhere, so Marie lets go of Kacey’s hip and drops onto her forearm. She has a better angle like this, curling her hand around Kacey’s shoulder, and all of a sudden Kacey is touching _her_ , which she was not prepared for. It’s difficult to focus when Kacey’s hands are moving along her back, but she fights through it, giving Kacey more pressure, less and less afraid of hurting her each second.

It pays off. As soon as she really bears down, Kacey gasps, and the sound she makes is quiet but it’s melts Marie’s brain immediately, so that all she can do is whatever will make Kacey make that noise again.

She lifts her head to watch Kacey’s face, and it’s the best choice she’s made all night. When she twists her wrist again it’s without thinking about it, but she notices, because Kacey’s fingers dig into her shoulders, and suddenly Marie can see how Kacey’s coming apart, her eyelashes fluttering, the flush rising from her chest into her face. 

It’s the best thing Marie’s ever seen. She can’t really believe it’s happening to her, even after Kacey is still again, her knees resting against Marie’s hips, her eyes closed while she tries to catch her breath. Marie’s not sure what to do, but eventually she takes her hand back and lays next to Kacey to let her breathe. It doesn’t feel right not to be touching her, so, as an afterthought, she reaches for Kacey’s hand and laces their fingers together.

Eventually, Kacey takes a deep breath and rolls over. She keeps ahold of Marie’s hand even lying on her side, and Maris rolls over, too, so that they’re face to face.

“Told you you’d be fine,” Kacey croaks, and her voice is so different that Marie has to laugh a little bit under her breath.

She does feel fine. She feels better than fine. 

She feels kind of awesome.


End file.
